


Simply Ask

by Tasharii



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Marriage Proposal, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16106021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasharii/pseuds/Tasharii
Summary: Bucky Barnes has every intention of marrying you.There's just one problem. Every time he tries to pop the question, something horrible happens.He's failed three times already. The universe just keeps saying no for you.Maybe a wedding just isn't in your future.





	1. The Restaurant Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is another mini series that's been rolling around in my head for a while.  
> I finally decided to write it for [@noshitstark writing challenge on Tumblr.](http://noshitstark.tumblr.com/post/178148135470/hi-everyone-i-thought-id-do-a-writing-challenge)   
> Hope you like it! This is mostly an excuse for me to write a very panicked, awkward Bucky lol

He was trying. Really, truly trying.

Bucky stroked a hand down your bare back, stopping his touch on the curve of your lower spine. Felt your soft expanse of skin and enjoyed the way your body molded with his own on the bed. Practically sleeping on him instead of the mattress. Sunlight drifted in through the curtains to his left, and he could hear the morning sounds of Manhattan outside. Even a few birds perched on the window sill.

Sleepily, you nuzzled against his chest, hand curled up near your mouth as you lightly snored. The mess of your hair tickled his neck and chin. There was even a bit of drool on his skin. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The fact that he was trying so hard was probably the saddest part of all. His lips brushed against your forehead and you smiled in your sleep. One hand in your hair, the other hugging around your waist, he stared up at the ceiling as he tried to stop the self-deprecating train of thought.

It shouldn't be so hard to ask the girl he loved to marry him.   
But, somehow, he kept fucking it up.

That actually wasn’t too much of a surprise. Something always seemed to be going wrong. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t know how you put up with him for so long.

Bucky traced designs against your shoulders. Dawn slowly grew brighter as the sun chased away the moon. He should be sleeping too right now. But he couldn't get over the fact that he messed up three absurd times. Three times he tried to purpose.   
And all three went spectacularly wrong.

 

 

One month ago

  
The low light of the restaurant made your eyes glow. Bucky shifted nervously in his seat, but he covered it up by picking up his water and taking a drink. You were perusing the menu, but he already knew what you would order.

This was your favorite restaurant. He picked it for a reason. 

Right on time, the waitress came over to take your orders. He got the ravioli and smoothly went ahead and ordered for you. From the way his stomach was twisting uncertainly, he didn’t know if he would be able to eat anything at all.

A spark of playful mirth passed over your face as you turned on him after the waitress left, "And what if I wanted the lasagna instead? You would have just made a complete idiot of yourself." You bit your lip to keep your smile at bay.

Bucky smirked at you, tilting his head, "But you never want anything else. You always get the same thing." He fiddled with the paper from his straw, folding it up into a ball.

Mouth popping open dramatically, you scoffed, "Not true! There was that one time I got the fish."

A fond smile spread across his face, "And?" He propped his chin on his hand and enjoyed the way your hair reflected the soft golden light of the restaurant, like a halo.

Glass in hand, you rolled your eyes, "And it was awful. Fine. Fine I'm predictable. " You hid your smile behind your glass as you took a drink, trying to pout. He could read you too well to fall for it, though. Banter was a staple in his relationship with you.

"Just admit that you love that I knew what you wanted." Bucky insisted. The restaurant was steadily becoming fuller as dinner shifted into full swing. Despite the background hum of voices, he felt like it was just the two of you. That was probably because your voice was the only one that really mattered.

"Only if you admit that you're just as predictable as I am." You demanded in turn, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward. A hint of cleavage spilled out from your low-cut blouse and his eyes drifted appreciatively to it before back to your face. The smug tilt of your lips let him know that his observation hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Smile still in place, Bucky winked flirtatiously and chuckled, “Never.” The snort of surprised laughter that left you made him grin. If he could make you smile every day for the rest of his life, he would consider it a life well lived.

The restaurant wasn't so fancy that there was a dress code. But it did have a sweet atmosphere, and it was small. Intimate. The two of you had found it by accident. Wandering through the streets of Brooklyn with nothing better going on. Back when everything was still new, and you were still getting used to being together.

No missions, no Avengers family dinner, and no obligations. That was a fun night.

After eating here once, it became essential that every month or so, it was one of the date nights.  
That was a running tradition of 3 years now.

Bucky noticed the waitress coming towards the table with a bottle of wine. Your favorite. She weaved through the maze of other tables and people from the other side of the restaurant, near the bar. It was go time and he felt wildly under prepared.

He sat up straighter, butterflies entering his stomach. Truthfully, he hadn't felt this nervous since asking you to go steady. Suddenly desperate to spit out the speech he had been practicing, he turned back to you. Hand on the front pocket of his jeans, he felt the weight of the simple, small black box. It was empty now, but it reminded him of why he was here in front of you. Why tonight had to be flawless.

Ok well he planned to mostly wing it. Hadn't even written anything out, despite Steve, Tony, Bruce, and everyone else advising him to. But he still needed to say something sweet. Something to hopefully persuade you into saying yes.

Reaching forward, his hand cupped over yours on the table. You stopped rambling about the new move Natasha was starting to teach you. Bucky could see the gears running in your head as you looked at him apprehensively. A tad suspicious of his sudden shift into a serious mood. He didn’t blame you. In fact, he loved that you could read him so well. That you paid enough attention to care at all.

"Y/N you know I love you right?" Bucky asked quietly. The first words that popped into his head. They felt right. His voice was low, and rough from his mouth being unexpectedly dry.

Slowly you nodded, squeezing his hand, "Of course. Didn’t we settle that a few years ago?" You shifted your hand so that you could rub your thumb over his scarred knuckles. Soothing him.

Bucky softly laughed, remembering how big a deal it had been when he finally spit it out.   
Now he was trying to live with you forever. That way he could tell you he loved you every day.  
God so much had changed. 

"Obviously, but I don’t tell you it enough. You mean so much to me. More than you could ever realize." He continued, watching your expression for any hint of how you felt. Any other time he could practically read your mind, but right now he didn’t trust himself enough to believe what he saw. Right now, his black dress shirt was too hot and stuffy. It felt like his heart was trying to melt through it and escape from his ribs.

"Probably cause you suck at explaining yourself." You teased, and you laced your fingers through his, stroked his thumb. His chest swelled sweetly. Teasing him but comforting him with your touch. A combo that always eased his nerves. Cool air blissfully blew across his skin from a vent overhead and your encouraging smile eased some of the flushed heat from his cheeks.

"Well I'm trying right now.” Bucky shook his head, waving his hand between the two of you, and whined, "But you're such a brat that you have to make it hard." He rubbed at his face with his left hand. The metal was cold against his skin and it grounded him. He hadn't covered his arm in years. Mostly thanks to you.

"Bucky?" You asked gently, and he saw that you were getting a little nervous. Eyebrows pinched together, you were biting your lip and watching him carefully. Hair falling in waves around your face, you looked like an angel to him. Sometimes, it still amazed him that you saw him at all. Saw him for the man he was and not the monster he had been made into.

Reassuringly, he smiled, squeezing your hand, "You've made such an impact on my life doll. I don’t know where I would be without you. Definitely not here." He gestured around the room, and continued, “Even after all this time, I still love you.” Bucky cleared his throat, keeping his voice from cracking, “It may not be— it’s not easy to love each other, but after everything we’ve been through, I don’t think I would be able to not love you.” He trailed off, not sure if he was even making sense anymore, but the fond look on your face let him know that you understood anyway.

“I still get butterflies when you’re around.” You admitted softly, a blush making your face glow, “I always thought those would go away after a while, but I guess not with you.” The statement came out slowly, with a heavy layer of emotion that made the words timid. Your eyes searched his but before you could say anything else, the waitress made it to the side of the table.

Brightly, she chirped, "Your wine." Setting the bottle in a black bucket of ice onto the table, she wiped her damp hands on the front of her white apron. Her long brown hair was pulled up high in a messy bun with a pen sticking out of it.

Bucky smiled back, relieved to have a reprieve from talking for a minute. Despite the obvious affection in your expression, he felt a little like a rambling idiot. His eyes fell on the chilled bottle in a bucket of ice, and then his heart dropped.

There wasn't a ribbon around the bottles neck. 

Before they sat down, he had privately talked to the waitress. Gave her the ring on a ribbon to string around the wine. That wasn't even the right brand of wine. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he swallowed, trying to draw back any sort of moisture.

Bucky glanced up to speak, and then realized this was an entirely different waitress, "Um excuse me but where did Amy go?" His voice had a tremor in it that he tried to keep at bay. He retracted his hand from on top of your own and sat up, hot and cold all at once.

You raised your eyebrows, probably surprised that he even remembered the other woman’s name. Along with curiosity about why it was important to begin with. Completely unaware of the growing panic that made his skin crawl.

The waitress, her nametag said Clare, smiled apologetically, "Sorry about there. A big party just came in and I'm helping her cover some of the tables. I hope that's alright." On any other night it would have been alright but right now, Bucky wanted to pull his hair out.

Dread started to rise in his throat like a tidal wave. Hands squeezed in his lap, he bit the inside of his cheek to calm his temper. Then Bucky forced a watery smile, tone patient, "Oh ya that’s alright its just-"

“Oh my god! It’s beautiful! Yes of course! Yes!” The shrill squeal of a woman three tables over made him jump. His knee bumped under the table, making their dishes clatter. Her cries cascaded through the entire restaurant and Bucky’s head whipped over to see a thin redhead hugging her startled boyfriend from over their table. The guy looked like he was about the throw up and Bucky felt about as awful. Even from here, he recognized the ring on her finger from where it glinted on the guy’s shoulder.

Humming, you giggled, “That’s so sweet.” Bucky wanted the ground to swallow him up. Climbing to your feet, you moved over to his and kissed the top of his head, “I’ll be right back. Gotta go to the restroom.” Your hand squeezed his shoulder and you took a step away, only to turn back. When he glanced up at you in surprise, you dipped down and pecked his lips. The touch quieted his heart like summer rain, and then you scurried off.

Wide eyed, he watched as you made your way through the tables and stopped to wish the couple congrats. Before, finally, disappearing around the corner. The waitress turned to leave, but he called, “This isn’t my bottle of wine.” Clare paused, glancing back with an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry! What brand did you—”

“That was my bottle of wine.” Bucky jabbed a finger over to the couple where the guy had started to talk to his girlfriend in hushed tones. The man’s face was contorted in pained anxiety and the redhead’s eyes were narrowed. Her fingers twisted the ring on her hand nervously.

Clare went pale as a sheet, “Oh lord I’m so sorry.” Her hand covered her mouth and she took a step back, like she wanted to just bolt instead of deal with the situation.

Bucky nodded and stood up with a sigh, “Care to help me explain to them what happened?” He adjusted the cuffs of his crisp shirt around his wrists, ignoring the way she stared at his silver hand.

Arms crossed, she nervously looked from him over towards the direction of the bar, “I can go get my manager if you want—” Impatiently, he cut her off. Didn’t want to be rude, but you would be back at any given moment.

“It’s alright, I just don’t want to have to tell that woman about the mix up by myself.” Bucky admitted, heading over to the table before she could argue. Clare followed reluctantly behind him. His footsteps felt heavy and dread made his heart drop. Obviously, this wasn’t the worst thing he had ever had to deal with, but it was the worst thing that could have happened today. Short of you rejecting him all together.

Over at the table, he picked up bits of their conversation before they noticed his presence. It didn’t sound pretty. At all.

“I don’t know what happened and I love you a lot but it’s just that. You see that’s not.” The man trailed off, waving a hand towards the ring. His black hair fell in his eyes, sticking up like he had ran a hand through it one too many times. The woman noticed them first, stopping from replying, the guy followed her line of sight.

Bucky pressed his lips together to refrain from wincing, “I’m sorry, but there’s been a misunderstanding.” He fished the ring’s black box from his pocket and held it up, hoping it would explain everything for him. So that he wouldn’t have to. Unabashed guilt flushed through his veins, despite it not being his fault.

Clare piped up, tone pitched too high, strained, “We got the bottles mixed up. I’m so sorry.” Her voice wavered like she was about to cry. Embarrassed. He felt a little bad for her. The box was heavy in his hand and he let his arm drop back to his side.

Realization dawned on the redhead’s face. A grimace followed, making her nose wrinkle up, and she slowly tugged the ring off her finger, “So you…?” She met her boyfriend’s eyes and he shook his head. The woman turned to Bucky and offered him the ring. Her eyes were red, pale face dotted in freckles, and he could tell she was trying not to cry, “Well this is embarrassing.” She muttered.

Bucky took the ring from her and tucked it away, glancing up to make sure you were still out of sight, “I really am sorry.” He stressed, the box snapping as he shut it, “This wasn’t how I imagined today going.” The couple hummed in agreement and the woman rubbed at her eyes, smudging mascara under them.

“Both your meals will be free.” Clare rushed, trying to help, “Dessert too.” She clasped her hands together, face blotchy and red. The air was still tense, but Bucky was grateful to her. Not that he needed his food to be free, but at least her words filled the silence.

“Thank you.” The boyfriend stated, eyes flickering from them to his incredibly quiet, very tense date. Her hands were in her lap and Bucky could see her chipping away at her nail polish, flecks of green dusting her lap.

Unable to think of anything else to say, Bucky slowly backed up, extracting himself from them and feeling extremely uncomfortable, “I better get back before she realizes what I’m up to. I hope you have a good night.”

As he retreated, the woman called after him, “I hope she says yes.” Her voice was kind, despite being thick with unshed tears.

Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled gratefully, some of the tension easing off his shoulders, “Thank you.”

 

 

When you returned to the table, the other couple was gone, having lost their appetite. Bucky spun the box in his fingers, down in his lap. He tried to decide whether he wanted to ask you now or not. Across from him, you sat back down and glanced over to where the other couple had been.

“Guess they couldn’t wait to go celebrate.” You mused, smiling wistfully, “Her ring was beautiful. I wonder when they’re planning to have the wedding.” She took a drink from her glass of wine. The waitress had, finally, brought the right bottle. The irony of your statement made him snort a small laugh. At least he now knew you would like the ring.

If you didn’t mind that another woman got to try it on first.

“You want to get married in the fall, right?” Bucky asked, watching the way you swirled the wine in your glass.

“Yep, outside with all the colorful leaves and cool air.” Your eyes met his and you smiled suggestively, “I hope you’ll be there.”

Bucky tucked the box back into his pocket and chuckled, “Me too.” It could wait just a little longer. In that moment, it just didn’t feel like the right time anymore. He wanted the proposal to be perfect for you. Nothing less than what you deserved.

Right now, just wasn’t it.


	2. The Party Failure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping to update this around once a week. Maybe a day or two early or late. But hopefully every Wednesday.  
> Currently, I'm in the middle of moving states and writing is helping me deal with the stress.  
> Buuut I'm also exhausted so writing is going a bit slower than normal...  
> Please leave me any sort of feedback. Even if it's just a short 'good chapter' lol It really helps.  
> Hope you enjoy <3  
> You can also find this on Tumblr along with a banner to go with it [here](https://tasharii.tumblr.com/post/177518681833/masterlist).  
> If you like my work, give me a follow over there. I would appreciate it :)  
> I occasionally take requests and reblog cool Marvel stuff I find.

The moment that you started to wake up, Bucky could feel it. Like a sixth sense for everything having to do to you. Sluggishly, your body tensed, an almost inaudible groan escaped your lips and you shifted to sit up, hand curled up on his chest. He watched your face with a fond smile. Nose wrinkled, eyes squeezed shut, you yawned. Not totally awake yet. The mess of your hair was adorable. Strands fell in your face and stuck out haphazardly in all directions.

“Morning doll.” Bucky stated tenderly, quiet in the golden light of the early hour. He lifted his left arm and tucked it under his pillow to prop up into a more comfortable position.

Sighing, you stretched, arms back and hands behind your head. The sunlight from the window haloed your bare body, making your skin glow and Bucky’s heart stuttered. He watched you, observing every familiar dip and curve. Trying to memorize you all over again. If it was up to him, he would never share moments like this with anyone else. Your hair was tangled and wild on top of your head and across your chest. One side of your face flushed pink from laying in the same position too long. Every inch of you was natural and open for only him to see. He felt lucky.

“Mornin sweetheart.” You finally replied, stretch done, and rubbed at your squinted eyes, “You been awake long?” Every word was thick and leisurely from sleep. The blankets shifted as he bent up on of his knees and shook his head, yawning again.

Bucky reached for you, his hand guiding you back down to his chest, “No, it’s still early.” He started to untangle your hair with his fingers, brushing it from your face. After adjusting the blankets back over your waist, he hummed in satisfaction at the sensation of skin against skin. Only your underwear and his boxers separated your bodies. Even after several hours, his veins still buzzed with pleasure from making love to you the night before.

“Good cause I don’t wanna get up yet.” You sighed, nuzzling against him and hugged him around the waist. Languidly, you pressed light affectionate kisses against his chest, where you could reach from your position against him.

“Me either.” Bucky kissed the top of your head, hand running down your arm. Sticky plastic swept against his fingers on your upper arm. He’d almost forgot about the band aid. Left over from his second colossal screw up at trying to propose.

Still cozy from sleep, you tilted your chin up, seeking a kiss. Amused, he pecked your lips, lingering for a second to enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth.  Morning breath be damned. If only everything else could be as easy as mornings like this.

 

 

**Two weeks ago**

 

The wind outside was gentle and cool. Perfect weather to enjoy the summer sunset outside. Everyone was gathered on the roof for one of Tony’s frequent parties. Sky streaked in pinks and purples, music and conversation filled the area with background noise. Cotton candy clouds drifted lazily across the sky. The party was thrown under the guise of being a ‘Celebration for the Team’s Latest Achievements’. Truth was, Bucky planned to propose, and everyone knew it except you.

Leaning next to Steve on the railing, Bucky sipped on a beer. The bitter flavor coated his tongue and soothed his nerves. Alcohol didn’t work on him anymore, but the familiar action of drinking reminded him of a time it did. From where he stood, he could see you laughing with Jane, Darcy, and Natasha. The four of you were still dripping water from the pool. A towel wrapped around your waist, your hair was down and in damp disarray across your shoulders. Smiling into your drink, it was like you knew he was looking. Within a second, you glanced over at him above Darcy’s shoulder. Bucky smirked and winked at you, making your giggle before you focused back on your friends.

“You ready?” Steve asked, startling him out of his thoughts. When Bucky looked at him questioningly, he clarified, “To share your life with someone else.” Eyes studying his face, Steve talked quietly, with a level of concern that he often tried to keep from showing. Bucky knew his best friend worried about him a lot, and sometimes he worried too much. Especially when he first started to get his memories back. They used to fight a lot about Steve’s habit of helicoptering. Things were better now, though. In fact, most of the time, Bucky appreciated it. Like right now.

Bucky ducked his head, breaking eye contact, and tapped his metal fingers against his cold beer bottle. The glass rhythmically clinked against the metal, and he hummed in thought, “Mn, I’ve never been readier for anything in my life.” His eyes drifted to you again, as if gravity pulled him to you rather than the ground, “I care about her more than I thought I was capable of.”

Steve genuinely smiled, bright and sweet, patting Bucky on the shoulder, “Then you should get going. Before Tony does it for you.” Chuckling, Steve pointedly glanced over to where Tony was standing with Pepper, Rhodey, and Peter.

The moment Tony noticed him staring, he gave him a sharp glare. Immediately halting his own conversation to tap impatiently at his watch. Bucky rolled his eyes, but Tony still gestured, not-so-subtly, over to where you were. Melodramatically, he tipped both his head and glass of expensive scotch in your direction. He was more enthusiastic about you getting engaged then would ever be deemed appropriate. Even from a close friend. Bucky let out a heavy sigh, exaggerating the burden of Tony’s demands. Steve chuckled, leaving to go talk with Sam and Clint. They were messing around with the music at a table beside the snacks.

Kicking off the railing, Bucky slowly walked over to you. The closer he got, the more his stomach twisted. After the last time, he kept the ring on him, nestled in its original packaging. In the front pocket of his black jeans. It burned like a beacon and he wondered if you had figured out his intentions yet. It felt so obvious to him, and if you did know, how would you feel about it? Part of him wished he could just know already. Rather than living in perpetual anxiety.

“Think I can borrow my girl for a minute?” He asked, sliding up beside you and putting an arm around your waist, hand on your hip. The swimming top was still cool and wet against his palm, but the sliver of skin peeking out above you low riding beach towel was warm and supple. Immediately, he had the urge to whisk you away and just show you how he felt. In a million touches and kisses on every inch of your body. Until you were writhing in pleasure. That would be easier than this. Touch was always easier than words.

Darcy and Jane exchanged looks and then grinned at him knowingly, “Sure.” Jane started, shrugging in the worst attempt to be nonchalant.

“Ya go ahead.” Darcy finished for her, waving a hand in the air and pressing her lips together in a fine line. A poor shot at keeping her grin off her face. Luckily, you were focused more on him, eyebrows raised in question.

You kept glancing up at him as he guided you away from everyone. The hand on your waist faintly pushed you where he wanted, keeping you close. Bucky led you towards the small greenhouse that Bruce cared for. There were plants scattered all along the roof, but the greenhouse was his baby. There were colorful pots filled with ferns, trees and flowers. A white lattice with plants hanging from the top and flowered vines growing up it. Bucky took you to the far side, away from nosy ears and spying eyes.

“Everything ok?” You asked, removing your towel and running it through your hair. With your eyes on him, he felt his throat close in nervousness. It was like you stole all the words he had inside him with one glance. Leaving behind only noisy white static.

Bucky sat down on a concrete bench in between two bloomed saplings, the orange light of the setting sun reflected across your face as you took a seat beside him. Your hand touched his knee, squeezing. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he started, “Oh, ya I’m fine. Just wanted to talk to you about something.” When you stayed silent, head tilted as you gave him your full focus, he continued, “You’re so beautiful.” That wasn’t how he wanted to start it, but with way the light was hitting your eyes, and your lips lifted into an endearing smile, it just slipped out.

Snorting a laugh, you shook your head, “I’m glad you think so.” You draped the wet towel over your knees, swimming shorts high on your upper thighs, and feet bare against the concrete floor.

“I do.” Bucky nodded, taking your hand and bit his bottom lip, “Ya know, I never actually wanted to have something in my life that I was terrified to lose.” He confessed, making your eyes soften at how earnest he sounded, Bucky continued, “I’m not very good with words but I just—”

Suddenly, you jumped and cursed, letting go of his hand to rub at your bare upper arm. Eyes squeezed shut, you grimaced and looked back over at him, “S-Sorry keep going.” You urged after a few seconds.

“Are you ok?” Bucky asked, and you released your arm, taking his hand again. He leaned forward on his knees, elbows on his jeans, and stared up at you with concern across his expression. You checked your arm, it was facing away from him, and then shrugged.

“Ya I’m fine. Sorry, bug just bit me.” You waved for him to keep going and he took a breath, watching you for a minute before trying to gather his thoughts again. He sat back up, unable to keep still, and clasped your hand in both of his to keep from fidgeting.

“After being the Winter Soldier, I never thought I could get attached to anyone. And I didn't even want to because I figured I'd just end up losing it. I’ve had to fight to keep Steve in my life. I didn't want anyone else.” Bucky swallowed the lump in his throat, “Then I met you.” He grasped at straws, trying to remember where he was going with this string of sentences, “And it scares me sometimes because of how much I care about you.” Squeezing his hand, you smiled softly, and shook your head.

“You now I’m not going anywhere.” You cleared your throat, wincing again, but finished, “I’d die before leaving you alone.” With your free hand, you carded your fingers through his hair and across his jaw. He leaned into your palm.

“Cause that’s comforting…” Bucky teased sarcastically, fingers brushing your bare thigh. Sometimes it felt impossible to go without touching you. Touch was a reminder to him that you were there. Real. He added, “I want to give you everything I can because you’ve already given me more than I deserve.”

“Bucky—” You started, eyes squeezed shut for a second before looking at him. Red tinted across your cheeks and you swallowed hard. He interrupted, shaking his head and stroked your thumb with his.

“Hang on I have a point I swear.” Bucky replied hastily, letting go of your hand with his right and reaching for his pocket. He paused when you yanked at his hand, voice ringing with distress.

“No Buck, I’m sorry.” You took a breath and clenched your jaw, free hand rubbing at your throat, “I think I got stung by a wasp.” Releasing his hand, you turned your arm and the bite was already angry scarlet, a rash spreading down out from it. You grimaced again, breath wheezing when you inhaled. The towel fell around your feet when you started to try and get up.

Bucky’s eyes widened, and he stood up, immediately panic stricken, “Stark!” He shouted across the roof, making everyone look over. White as a sheet and with wild eyes, he turned back towards you. On cue, Tony popped a bottle of champagne, the bubbles falling all over with a grin on his face.

“Congratulations! It's about damn-" Mouth open as if to continue, Tony paused, noticing the anxious look on Bucky’s face. He set the overflowing bottle down on the table beside him and frowned, “What? Not go well—”

Leaning down, Bucky helped you up and lifted you bridal style in his arms. He cradled your head to his chest and hurried towards the door that led to the stairwell. Bucky cut him off, “She got stung by a wasp.” Immediately, Clint turned the music off and everyone collectively held their breath. The weight of the situation didn’t pass over anyone.

“Oh shit.” Tony muttered, already crossing around the table. He had his phone out, calling the doctor three floors down in the tower. Immediately getting them ready for your arrival.

“Just one.” You defended, breathing labored. One was enough, considering your extreme allergy against wasp stings. It wasn’t life threatening unless you got stung multiple times or ignored the sting for too long. Bucky could already hear your breath growing shallow as your throat swelled.

“We’re going down to the medical wing.” Bucky stated, everyone took a step closer, wanting to help, but there wasn’t much anyone could do. Closest, Bruce held the door open for him. Instead of taking the elevator, Bucky took the stairs two at a time. You clung to the front of his shirt, and he whispered assurances to you, hoping to ease the anxiety building in your eyes. It felt like he couldn’t breathe either.

 

 

Several shots and hours later, you sank down on the couch beside him, curling up under his arm, “I’m sorry about the party.” You apologized, tucking your feet up on the cushions, “I can’t believe there was a wasp nest all the way up there.” Eyebrows furrowed, you pouted, bathed in the stark blue light coming from the TV across from you on the wall.

“Tony’s getting an exterminator up there tomorrow.” Bucky hugged you snuggly and leaned down so that he could kiss you. The kiss felt like a relief. Relief that he hadn’t lost you. It released all the nerves from his body, leaving him boneless and exhausted.

Pulling back, you quietly asked, voice barely audible over the movie playing in the background, “Earlier, you said you had a point you were trying to get to. What was it?” You raised your eyebrows at him, features open and curious. His stomach twisted unpleasantly again.

Bucky hummed thoughtfully. The ring was packed safely away in his knife drawer, you never went in there. After a couple beats of silence, he replied, “Honestly I can’t remember.” He laughed, shaking his head, “Guess you getting hurt just chased whatever it was away.”

Kissing the corner of his mouth you laughed, “I’m alright dork. You worry too much.” You huffed, “But I guess that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“I’m not the only dork here that worries too much.” Bucky stated meaningfully, nuzzling his nose against your temple, his nose was cold against your skin. The AC on just a tad too high. His breath fanned across your cheek, “You’re just as bad as me.” His words were muffled in your hair, but he knew you could still understand him.

“If you would just stop trying to leave me it wouldn’t be a problem!” You chastised, swatting lightly at his chest. Bucky snorted, pulling back to gape dramatically down at you, offended.

“I would never try to leave you!” Bucky stressed, cupping your face in his hands. Nose brushing your as he leaned closer, his smile mirrored yours.

“Never?” You asked, voice dropping several octaves. Soft and tentative. Your eyes searched his for reassurance, reflecting the colors of the movie.

“Never.” He promised, the word brushing against your lips as he kissed you. In the dark of your living room, all he cared about was you and making sure you never doubted him. Never thought he would willingly leave you alone. He pressed those promises in every brush of your lips and held onto you. You desperately clung to him. The embrace became so tight that he was worried you might bruise, but he didn’t dare pull back. Didn’t dare let you go. Not now. Not ever.


	3. The Training Tragedy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay. Work and real life caught up with me and this short story fell into the back of my list.  
> Behind my main story. Luckily this just has one more part before it's finished up. And I just have to edit it.  
> Hope you are enjoying this. It's fun for me to write Bucky getting so frustrated lol

The alarm set on Bucky’s phone started to ring. Steadily growing louder with every chime and letting him know that he was supposed to be up and about by now. Alarms were an unnecessary safety net more than anything. He was always awake before them. Like right now. The soft mattress of the bed shifted and hugged to him, begging him to not leave as he readjusted you in his arms.

Playfully, he shook your shoulder where his arm was wrapped around you. Slightly annoyed, you groaned loudly and shook your head against his chest. He knew you were awake. Had been for a while, but neither of you had moved. Too busy enjoying the quiet cuddling of a soft morning. Bucky let go of you long enough to snatch his phone off the dresser and turn off the alarm. In that time, you managed to pull the blankets entirely over your head and burrow deeper into the bed. Leg slung over him and arm tightly clinging to his torso.

Bucky snorted and poked at the head-shaped-lump near his chin, “Steve’s expecting us at the gym.” His voice was still thick from sleep and he cleared it lightly, “He’ll just come drag us outta here if we don’t go.” Obviously, he was speaking from experience. Steve had invaded his bedroom one too many times for Bucky’s liking.

All he got in return was another human-ish grunt followed up with pointed silence. Bucky tried to peel the blanket back, so he could talk sense to your face, but you held firmly on an end of it. He rolled his eyes, amused, and raised his eyebrows, smirking, “If you get up now, we’ll have time to take an extra-long shower after. Before the meeting with Tony.” Bucky felt your chin dig into his chest as you peered up in his direction, and he was able to lift the blanket to peek at your face.

Rubbing at your eyes, you bit at your bottom lip in thought, “Think so?” Your words were low, languid from sleepiness, and Bucky thought it was adorable as hell.

“Definitely,” He sat up, pushing the blanket off your head, and you knelt between his legs. The blanket pooled behind you and he leaned forward, kissing your cheek, “I’ll even let you choose what I eat first...”  He gave a wicked smile that always made you squirm, “Breakfast or you.” A shiver passed down your spine, and he felt it against his chest. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if it was from the nippy morning air, or his words. Slowly, Bucky grazed his lips over your ear, kissing your temple as he let out a breath. That shiver he knew was just for him.

Softly, you pressed a kiss to his jaw in return, “Then I guess we should hurry up and meet Steve for our run.” An impish grin made your dimples show and Bucky couldn’t resist kissing your cheek again. Right on one. Which resulted in you giggling and pushing his face playfully away. He squawked when he fell back against the mattress. In retaliation, he lightly kicked at your side as you tried to maneuver around the tangle of blankets.

Mornings like this made training worth it. Being a hero wasn’t easy, and Steve was brutal when it came to physical fitness. Despite all the complaining about it, everyone on the team understood why he did it. For their safety. If they weren’t on the top of their game, then they were in danger. But if he had you there to endure the torture with him, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was even fun sometimes.

Bucky watched you get off the bed and head over to the walk-in closet, from inside you called, “Think we’ll have time to spar together?” Your head poked out around the doorway, already adjusting a sports bra.

Climbing out of bed himself, he went to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats. Bucky hummed in thought, “I think if we tell Steve, he won’t mind.” Pants settled, he picked up a hair tie and scooped back his unruly mane into a bun.

Sparring with you was both fun and a great workout. Despite the advantage with his arm, you were able to go toe-to-toe with him. Took a while for you to get there, but he loved watching you fight. It was like a dance when you sparred together.

That’s one of the reasons, about a week ago, he’d almost purposed to you on the mat.

 

**—————**

**One Week Ago**

 

The solid kick against his arm came fast enough that he barely managed to block it from his head. It sent Bucky rolling across the ground. He took the impact against his shoulder and popped back onto his feet. Of course, you were right on him again. Duck to the left, and then down and right. He was proud to see you keeping him on the defensive. Since he was bigger, it was the smarter move to try and pin him earlier rather than later. Before he got the chance to get a hit on you.

Sweat pooled down his back and shone across Bucky’s bare chest. Three rounds had already passed. Every breath had his heart banging in his ears. It was 1 vs 2 now. Bucky had managed to beat you twice, but you’d caught him off guard during the last one. Much to your pleasure. It was hard not to get distracted, though. You were gorgeous like this. Cheeks flushed, graceful and lethal in every step. Best of all, you were shining with life. Glowing even.

As you threw a punch towards his head, he noticed you left your stomach wide open. Going for it, he dodged just far enough to step in close to your body and caught you. The air rushed from your lungs, but you were his girl. Catching his arm, you used the momentum to swing up and get your legs around his shoulders. From that point, you could break his neck. Instead, you twisted and catapulted him to the ground.

Rolling with the motion, he felt you twist so that you could keep his head between your thighs. In a choke hold. His left arm pulled up against your body, trapped, and the heel of your foot dug into his ribs. The position left his neck, yet again, vulnerable. Plus, it was hard to breathe. Bucky loved it between your thighs most of the time. But god he forgot how lethally strong your legs were. Until moments like this where you put controlled pressure on his neck.

“Gonna call for mercy yet?” You asked, panting, but not yielding from the weight you kept on his body. When you sparred together, it was always all out. Bucky felt guilty from some of the bruises he gave you. Then he would look in the mirror. Found himself just as often black and blue from it all. So, it was fair.

Bucky squirmed and barely withheld a grimace when you ground your elbow on the joint of his shoulder. Making the metal dig at his scar tissue. That was just brutal, but he was aware enemies would take advantage of the same tender spot, “Never.” He managed through gritted teeth. There was a way to break from this hold. Just had to take stock and remember it.

Snorting a laugh, you squeezed your thighs, cutting off some of his air, “Come on sweetheart. Don’t make me hurt you.” You took on that high and mighty voice that both annoyed him and turned him on at the same time. Very conflicting.

Finally, Bucky went limp in the hold and slapped his hand against your thigh twice. The ‘Mercy’ signal. Cheering in victory, you released him and rolled to flop back onto the black mat under you, “Hell ya!” Your voice echoed through the deserted gym. It was just the two of you that afternoon, “I beat you twice!” You held up two fingers and he snorted.

“It’s still a tie. You’ve not one the war yet doll.” Bucky chuckled. He moved over to lay on his side next to you. Sweat shone across your bare stomach and your hair fell from your braid in wisps. When you grinned up at him, he gave small scowl, rolling his left shoulder, “Just so you know, that hurt a lot.” An exaggerated pout twisted across his mouth. He wasn’t truly mad about it, but the flicker of concern across your features made his heart swell anyway.

But then it was gone, the moment you realized he was screwing with you. Pointedly, you patted at your bare stomach, only in a sports bra at this point, “Ya well, my ribs are still burning thanks to you. Did you have to use your left fist?” Your eyebrows flicked up and he let his cool metal fingers drift across your belly gently in apology. Feeling your ribs.

A flash of guilt made his eyes widened but then he shook his head, “You know it was the best option given the opportunity. Shouldn’t leave your torso unguarded sugar.” His hand ghosted across the gently curve of your hipbone and he pinched teasingly.

Before he knew it, you’d rolled on top of him, straddling his waist, “I’ll be sure to remember that. Sugar~” You brushed your fingers through his sweaty hair, leaning down to kiss him. Fingers tangled there, he felt you tug, pain biting through his scalp. But then your thumbs smoothed over his temples. Bucky met you halfway, hands cupping your cheeks. It was always blissful to kiss you. Made his mind fade to nothing but sparks and serene silence.

Lips brushing down his jaw, you whispered against his ear, “Love you sweetheart.” The words had him shivering, and the promise in the weight your hips pressed into his had him biting back a groan.

When he met your eyes, his heart was thrumming so fast he could barely feel it, “Love you more.” Bucky traced your smile with his thumb, “Think you can get something out of my jacket for me?” The question came out before he really thought it through. You paused, hands feeling his bare chest and tracing across his broad shoulders.

When Bucky remained quiet, you rolled your eyes and groaned. Not in pleasure, but in the effort it took to make your legs move off him. Eyebrows furrowed, you stood up with a snort, “Going lazy on me?” Once you hopped to your feet, he sat up. Immediately, his brain started racing. Scrambling to figure out what he was going to say. Only had the time it would take for you to reach his jacket on the edge of the mat.

Cool air nipped at the sweat drying on his flushed skin. His eyes flickered from you to his jacket, swallowing the lump in his throat, and trying to make his voice sound calm, “Sorry, arm’s still achy, thanks to a cutie I know.” He teased, hiding his nerves behind a grin. Eyes never leaving you at you crossed the room, he let out a slow breath. It didn’t have to be grand or perfect. He just wanted to finally see his ring on your finger.

Turning back, you stuck out your tongue. Bucky snorted incredulously and slowly got to his feet. Within a couple steps, you reached his leather jacket and started to pilfer through the pockets. Bucky added, “Inside pocket. It’s a small box.” By then he was slowly walking towards you, watching as your fingers grazed the pocket he was referring to.

“You’ve got too many pockets in this thing.” You groused, only to immediately stop when the glass doors slid open. The jacket went limp at your side as you watched Tony come in with sparking eyes.

Tony jogged into the middle of the room, already starting up his nanotech, “Suit up guys!” The red and gold of his suit shimmered as it encased his body. Instantly, you took a couple steps forward, concerned. Completely battle ready, just without the helmet, Tony started waving towards the way he came.

Bucky groaned, throwing out his arms wide and asked, “What now?” Stomach dropping, he felt frustration building up inside every muscle in his body. This was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. The universe had a cruel sense of humor. He’d never been so close to throwing a childish temper tantrum in his life.

At the same time, your eyes widened, “Why? What’s going on?” You turned towards Bucky, keeping most of your focus on Stark. Bucky closed the distance between the two of you and grunted when you tossed his jacket to him. Just a hair too hard, but you didn’t even notice. Because you were already walking towards Stark. Bucky caught it easily, and about ripped it in frustration. The material was cold in his hands and he felt for the ring automatically. The small box was still safely tucked away. Unnoticed by you.

“Hostage situation in Washington. The Pentagon.” Tony briskly stated, waving them towards the door, “We got to get over there as soon as we can. The terrorists are enhanced.” It was an awful, dangerous situation, but Bucky could barely bring himself to care.

Within seconds, you started jogging towards the door and out. Heading towards the room near the Quinjet where Tony kept everyone’s equipment. The glass door slid shut behind you, and Bucky watched as you disappeared around the bed. His jaw was tight as he clenched his teeth and let out a growl. Blazing eyes fell on Tony as Bucky slowly forced himself to follow you.

Exasperated, Tony clapped his hands, “Come on Barns! Get the lead out of your ass! We got to go!” The helmet of his suit came up, the facemask still open, but a screen came up. A woman’s voice piped up in Tony’s ear, Bucky could just hear the soft murmuring coming from the suit.

Every movement perfectly controlled, Bucky walked as calmly as he could. When Tony opened his mouth to snap again, Bucky glared back, “Just couldn’t wait another 10 minutes. Could you?” He pointedly fished the ring box out of his jacket and held it up.

Understanding washed over Tony’s features, and he frowned, “Bad luck bud. The world’s just the worst damsel in distress.” He clapped Bucky on the shoulder when he passed. The motion stung a little from the hard metal of Tony’s hand, but Bucky barely noticed. Just let himself be pushed forward, “Come on! You can take some anger out on some bad guys.”

Oh ya, he planned to do just that.

Wary, Tony gave him plenty of space as they made their way to the Quinjet. Apparently sensing the waves of dark, livid destruction radiating off him. Those terrorists had no idea what sort of demon was about to be set lose upon them.

When Bucky sat down beside you, ring burning like a brand on the inside pocket of his vest, you shot him a concerned look. He just shook his head and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling as the jet shot into the air. The soft feeling of your fingers interlacing with his made him let out a tight breath. Then the tender kiss you pressed to the back of his hand made him relax. Just a little.


End file.
